Untitled
by mieh
Summary: Going into moments involving Harvey's and Donna's families as a backdrop for their relationship throughout the years. Each chapter works individually as a oneshot. 1. Roadtrip to Boston 2. The god-awful dinner party
1. Untitled

**Chapter 1 - Untitled  
** Harvey and Donna take a little road trip and she helps him deal with life. Hurt/Comfort.

..

It's been a month.

A month since the hardest day of his life.

Life moves on, he guesses. Keeping busy, head in the game, pouring everything he's got into his new position.

It's been a month since he made partner.

It's been a month since his dad died.

She had persuaded him to go to his father's funeral. It was painful and horrible and he'd be forever grateful to her for it.

As if the gut wrenching act of burying one's father wasn't enough, he also had to see his mother for the first time in an offending number of years. Listening to her talk about his father in the service melted his soul. He felt it burn and scald him as hot tears covered his face. But for a second he thought that was good. The melting of his soul would allow it to piece itself back together, like broken pieces of glass, melted in searing fire to then be blown into a new life. He thought he was ready to forgive his mother.

He called and thanked Donna for that, too.

That was until he saw the man his mother had put between herself and her family. The ammunition she used to slaughter his family. The man who made a fool out of his father in his own home, humiliated him. Was now at his service. "Paying his respects."

The man didn't know the meaning of the word.

Neither did his mother – and he felt angry at himself for considering even for a second that maybe she did. For considering forgiving her.

And neither did his brother for accepting them both. For allowing them to keep humiliating his father over his grave.

He left in anger.

He didn't have a family there anymore because none of them understood loyalty.

..

" _What happened? I thought you were gonna stay up there for a couple of days,"_ Donna asked, surprised to see him back so soon. They had talked on the phone and she thought he had finally made peace with his mom.

" _Yeah, well, things don't always turn out the way you want them to."_

" _Harvey, you're gonna have to forgive her one day."_

" _I don't have to do anything. And I don't ever wanna hear you say that to me again."_

He had a finality to his tone. Curt. Sharp. He only looked at her enough to plant his words, and then glanced away to make her know that he was done. She should leave.

He knew he had been hard with her but he didn't regret it.

He was never going to forgive his mother and he needed Donna, of all people, to… accept that, at least. He knew she would never truly understand.

Her father had betrayed her family, too, in a way. He had betrayed their trust, lost everything they had, and not long ago tried to get money from her for another shady deal. Still, Donna loved the man more than anyone else in the world. She would never understand how he was able to completely desert his mother and he couldn't deal with her judgment. He could deal with her silence.

But then his brother called.

They were dealing with everything his father had left behind, emptying his home. His mind was so deep in work and he was so determined to _not_ focus on a conversation with Marcus, especially one regarding their father, it took him some time to catch up on what was happening.

Marcus could deal with the clothes, and furniture and whatever it was. He didn't care.

Marcus hesitation and strangeness was what tipped him off.

His father's music.

That's what needed dealing with.

His father had a room in his house dedicated to that. Saxophones, music sheets, records, a few other instruments… everything his dad treasured the most. That's what Marcus was offering.

That's one thing Harvey couldn't turn his back on.

"Look, man," Marcus insisted, taking Harvey's silence as him refusing the offer when in reality it was just all sinking in "I know we didn't leave things on good terms, but I know how important all of this is to you. We're packing up his house and I just thought… I'll make sure she's not here. I can even make myself scarce if you don't want to see me. So you can come and see what you want. Keep what you want."

That was the first time he felt ashamed for lashing out at his brother. He still thinks he was in the right doing so, because Marcus had picked _her_ side. But he felt ashamed.

"No, it's okay… you don't have to… you don't have to leave. I'll go."

"Okay, good. When do you think you can make it?"

"Uh… I don't know. I'm actually really busy at work…"

 _And certainly not ready to see you again._

 _Or to go through one more act of letting go of my father._

"We're kind of on a deadline here, Harvey... With the house."

"Saturday. I'll go this Saturday."

Better get this over with.

"Good. I'll just wait for you in the house then, to let you in."

"Thanks for calling, Marcus. Thank you for… offering."

"No problem, Harv. I'll see you."

..

When she told him what had happened he couldn't look at her.

Something about seeing the pain he was feeling reflected in her eyes, like looking in a mirror.

He turned to the side.

She stood still.

He tried with everything he had to fight the sting of his eyes welling up as he felt his heart break.

But then he found out he wasn't that strong.

He felt her cry quietly and knew he was, too.

" _Harvey, I'm so sorry."_

" _It's okay."_

He heard the reassurance in his own voice.

But it couldn't be him saying those words because he didn't know that. He didn't feel that.

Maybe it had been her. Telling him that he was going to be okay and somehow her words had fallen out of _his_ mouth.

It made sense to him in that moment.

..

He had no intention of going to that funeral and almost didn't. Maybe that's why it never occurred to him to ask her to come.

Now he is forced to go back there, so soon after everything that happened. Forced by his need to keep his father close. Even if it were just little lifeless pieces of his father, made out of metal and resin, paper and wood. He wants those pieces, but it feels like one more goodbye he needs to go through.

This time he doesn't want to go through it alone.

Once or twice he tells himself this is about organizing and cataloging and that's one of her roles in his life. That's why he needs her for this.

Can't convince himself, though.

He places his elbows on her cubicle wall, bending towards her as if attempting to look at her screen while she types away.

"That's not distracting."

"Busy?" he asks, seemingly casual.

"You know I am."

"Too busy for little road trip?"

"What?" She frowns and finally stops typing to focus her attention on him.

"I hear Boston is lovely this time of year."

"Harvey."

"I need to go to my father's house, to go through his possessions and… take things, I guess."

"And you want… _me_ to…"

"Yes."

She takes her time pondering and he's terrified she's going to ask why, mainly because he doesn't know the answer either.

But she doesn't.

"Okay," she agrees with a nod of her head.

He's too relieved to delve on her willingness. Maybe she pities him, or something.

"Saturday?" He checks her availability.

"Okay."

The disappearance of her string of speech and questions and analyses and suggestions makes him nervous, but extremely grateful all the same.

"I can pick you up at seven."

"I'll see you Saturday at seven."

He grins slightly, a thankyou too thick on his tongue to roll out of his mouth.

"…and also every single moment from now to then because I literally spend every waking moment of my life fifteen feet away from you."

She quips and smirks and he's surprised he's even capable of fitting more gratitude into his being.

..

Khaki pair of pants, navy sweater with a white shirt peeking at the collar and the hem, he's leaning against his car in front of her place at 6:45 Saturday morning. He drinks his coffee slowly, gazing around at the incipient awakening of a New York weekend. The coffee he bought her is perched on top of the car beside him and he's confident it should remain hot enough for fifteen more minutes.

The coffee doesn't have to wait that long though. Five minutes later she's stepping out of her building and walking the steps down in his direction, a small smile on her lips.

"You're early," he accuses as if she were the one on his door too early on a Saturday morning.

"I saw you through the window," she explains as she accepts the coffee cup he hands her.

"Oh."

She's wearing a cream sweater with a v cut, jeans and boots and he can't remember the last time he's seen her like this. Her hair looks the same as every day, long coppery strands, straight and bangs parted to the side of her forehead. She doesn't seem to be wearing makeup, but he's sure she is. He's lived enough to know women can trick men into thinking they're bare faced.

"Ready to do this?" she asks encouragingly.

"Ready to drive for four hours. Maybe after that I'll be ready for the other stuff."

"That's the spirit."

Apparently she is a relentless optimist today. He grins, pushes himself away from the car and moves to open her door.

..

They're driving out of the city and she's still wrestling with the radio every one or two songs, unable to settle.

"Seriously?" He complains again after losing count on the amount of times she's changed stations. "I'm pretty sure we've listened to more static than actual songs at this point."

"This one is too _chirpy_ ," she offers as if it was obvious and he rolls his eyes.

"Just. Put. On. A. CD." He's also lost count on the amount of times he's said that.

"Oh my god, where's your sense of adventure? Let's venture into the unknown, face the stations with bravery and…"

"You do realize you're talking about the radio, right?"

"You don't even like CDs anyway."

"Did you expect me to have a record player in the car?"

"Kind of." She shifts on her seat, frustrated with the radio static. "We could play some car games."

"I'm not playing car games."

"Come on! Let's play twenty questions."

"No."

"Okay. I'll go first. Ask me a question."

"Are you as uninterested in car games as I am?"

"Hey, how did you guess so fast?"

She plays amazement and he watches her smirk from the corner of his eyes which breaks his moodiness a bit. He knows she's trying to distract him and as grumpy as he is, he's gotta admit it's working.

"I'm wicked smart."

Eventually, she settles on a station and relaxes into her seat for longer than five minutes. Which inevitably makes her fall asleep.

She doesn't sleep for that long and she's soon straightening herself on the seat and stretching a bit.

"Where are we?" she asks, sleepily.

"Just past New Haven."

"Still? I could've slept longer."

"You're a great road trip company, by the way."

"You'll thank me when you're tired of packing and I impress you with my tireless energy."

"How can you even sleep after all that coffee?"

"I don't see the connection." She widens her eyes and he rolls his, but she is a more awake and chatty company all the way to Boston.

..

Long before he approaches his father's house a heaviness dawns on him. He reckons Donna feels it too, or at least she notices his nervousness, because she's quiet now.

He's not ready to see Marcus and he's absolutely not ready to go through his father's things. It's too soon, for both. What was this need people had to deal with hardship so efficiently? To get things dealt with and done and out of the way as soon as possible. Maybe his way of dealing wasn't the best, but neither was this.

If it was up to him he'd store the grief deep inside, hidden under a pile of daily obligations and denial to only deal with it when he was ready. Even if he never was. Maybe he'd be able to suppress it so much, to put so many other things into that pile and squash the feeling so deep that when he was forced to retrieve it, it'd be gone. Or at least flattened paper thin from all the weight and time and it would hurt less.

Donna said he couldn't do that when she made him go to the funeral.

His brother made it impossible for him to do it when he said he had to come for his father's belongings.

Maybe his way wasn't the healthiest but he couldn't see how his family's way of dealing would make anything more bearable. It was like they were trying to erase his father's existence as soon as possible. Rid every physical space he habited and object the touched of him. Clean, rearrange, move on. But then again, they weren't loyal to his father in life, why would they be in death?

He swallows the bitter thought as he parks in front of the house.

He feels her eyes on him and he breathes deeply, trying to force himself to be ready as he takes the key out of the ignition. He gets out of the car without looking at her and when he gets to her side she's already waiting for him on the sidewalk.

They walk side-by-side to the front door and, before they even get to the threshold, the door opens abruptly and they're faced with Marcus.

"Hey! I… heard the car," he explains seeing the startled look on his brother's face.

Harvey could've used the few extra seconds between knocking on the door and it being opened to prepare himself.

Normally he would hug his brother. But nothing feels normal anymore.

"Hey, hm…" he hesitates.

 _Good morning?_ It wasn't.

 _How are you doing?_ You should be doing pretty shitty.

"This is Donna." He decides, glancing at the redhead.

He notices Marcus nervous eyes soften as he focus his attention on Donna. "Hi. It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too, Marcus. I'm sorry about your loss."

Harvey watches as they hold each other's hands and a sudden wave of irritation crashes low on his stomach. His loss. His hands.

"So… brother, I guess you want some time to yourself to do this?" he chances, extending the house keys to Harvey's hand.

"Right."

"Do you want to have lunch? Have you guys eaten yet?" Marcus offers, checking his watch for the possibility of a group meal.

"We're fine." Harvey's teeth might crack from how hard his clenching his jaw. He knows anger is seeping through the cold of his tone and he doesn't know why.

"Okay, so… when you're done you can leave the key under the mat or… come by my place? Leave the key, have some coffee, say goodbye?" His tone is zealous, probably aware of the possibility his brother my might explode at him soon.

Harvey's silent.

"Thank you, Marcus," Donna answers in his place, after glancing at Harvey and assessing his silence as permanent. "I'm not sure how long we'll be busy here, but Harvey will let you know when we're done."

Marcus smiles softly at Donna before directing his words back to Harvey. "I've taken a couple of records and that music sheet for 'Impatient', but everything else is pretty much as it's always been so… just take whatever you want and after we can… decide what to do with what's left."

Harvey merely nods, avoiding looking into Marcus's eyes.

He passes between the pair mumbling a shy goodbye to Donna and leaves.

Harvey's gaze is fixed firmly on the tips of his shoes. As firmly as Donna's gaze is fixed on him. He draws in a breath soundly, straightening his slumped posture before he looks at her and wordlessly extends his hand in the direction of the open door in front of them, motioning for her to go inside.

..

His dad's house feels strangely empty, despite most things still being in place. One or two open doors show unoccupied cabinets and lonely hangers, but all the furniture is still in place.

That wasn't home for him, the house his father had moved to after the divorce. But it still felt like _something_. Like some lingering presence of a loved one in the dark woods of the floors and the comfy throw on the couch. There were a lot of pictures hanging on the walls, most from his life as a musician. His band on a stage, him on the sax, some concert posters with his name in tiny letters at the corner.

Donna stands quietly by a wall, looking at something he can't see from behind her back. He feels awkward over his silent outburst at the door and hesitates, but eventually figures there's no use and joins her.

He lingers behind her right shoulder. She's looking at an old picture of him as a young kid, probably ten or eleven years, proudly hugging his father's saxophone, little cheeks puffed full of air, no doubt about to blow on the thing, while the man laughed in the background. He loves that picture. Beside that one, there's one of him in his late teen years, an arm over an acne-covered Marcus, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

His sight drops to the other frame beneath those too, smaller and, different from the other two, he doesn't remember it being there in any of his visits and suddenly wonders if that was on purpose. It's a family picture. The four of them. His dad's arm proudly around his mother's waist.

Donna gazes over her shoulder.

"You okay there?"

The lump he swallows grates on his throat on the way down. He nods, the briefest sentiment of guilt over being so sour around the woman who gave up her Saturday to help him crosses his mind, but it doesn't stick.

"You were really cute." She points to the picture of his younger self.

"Still am."

She smiles at the tiny smirk that forces itself over his lips.

"I don't know, Harv… You certainly went downhill from there." She shrugs matter of factly.

"Excuse me, I am like a fine wine. I only get better with age."

"Oh. That explains it then. You're still too young and… _fruity_."

"What the…"

She spins on her heels and wanders into the long wooden covered corridor of the house.

She stops by the first door on her left and turns to look at him, waiting. He raises his brows at her uncharacteristic respect for one's private space before reaching for the door and letting her in.

When she gazes inside the room he watches the emotion that takes over her face. It really is a sort of sanctuary to his father's music and just who he… was. And the fact that she's able to notice it immediately and appreciate everything it represents fills his chest with some nameless emotion he's not used to.

They're surrounded by dark wood. The walls covered in so many posters, records and instruments it hides almost all of the mahogany underneath and a light grey colored rug covers part of the floor. It's much lighter there than in the living room as a big glass window takes up most of the wall in front of them and it bleeds a fresh, greenish sort of light into the room. They can see a well groomed garden, full of vines that drape over the side of the window and the empty street to the side of the house, a lonely bike leaning against a lampost across the street.

Harvey's been there before, of course. But not in a while. And somehow he doesn't remember it ever being this quiet. Maybe because his father was always there, talking and playing some music, having friends over, sometimes the TV was on in the living room… But his father wasn't there anymore.

Donna wanders around the room, calmly gazing, letting the atmosphere sink in. He finds it a bit hard to stare at everything in there for a moment and focuses on Donna's hands instead. They're crossed in front of her body as she walks around but she also lets her fingers graze delicately over the wooden cabinets; lifts a piece of paper to study it; takes an extra second by a keyboard beneath the window. His vision gets blurry.

"Hey, I'm hungry. Can we go get something to eat before we start?"

He turns his back quickly at the sound of her voice, taking focused interest on a guitar in a corner trying to force the glaze over his eyes to disappear before he can look at her.

It's lunch time. She hasn't eaten anything since that coffee early in the morning. Of course she's hungry…

He's completely sure she's only trying to get him out of there.

..

They get back in the car and drive for not even fifteen minutes to a diner Harvey used to go to such a long time ago it feels like a different life. And he likes the feeling of having this jeans-clad Donna walking into his other life.

He's stealing her fries after having finished his burger and it's so natural she doesn't even seem to take notice, but he does notice when she steals a sip of his his soda, lips rounding his straw for a second or two.

"There's scotch at your dad's place, right?"

"If Marcus didn't swipe it yet…"

"Well, if he did, we're hunting him down."

"Yeah, don't count on me."

"So… are you ready to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

She tilts her head to the side. He knows what.

He stares at the waitress behind the counter like a kid who hides behind sunglasses and thinks no one can see him.

"Are you _seriously_ mad at your brother?"

"Donna…" Not even he knows whether he's pleading or warning.

"Harvey." The way she plants his name forces him to lock his gaze on hers again. "You said I couldn't talk about… _her_ anymore, and I won't." His gut does a little guilt ridden twist at the memory of scolding her. "But this is not about your mother. He's your little brother and he's just lost his dad. He needs his brother to be there for him. And no matter how self sufficient you think you are, you need him too. He's your family, Harvey."

"Marcus doesn't need me."

He's rebuff is stubborn and child-like and they both know it, so she doesn't even make the effort to respond to that directly and just moves on with her speech.

"He's his own person, Harvey. He doesn't have to feel the same as you do about everything that's happened in your family and I'm sure he has his reasons…"

"Don't go there." He warns.

"The point is, you two are family and family should know they can count on each other, especially in times like this."

"He knows he can count on me."

"Does he? Because from what I saw he looked more like he was afraid you were going to bite his head off if he even breathed in the wrong direction."

He's silent then. She scrunches her brows at him, making an effort to find out if he's not saying anything because she's got to him or because he shut down. But then he pouts and she knows she can relax.

"Are you done?" he asks, gruffly.

"Yep." She pops her 'p'. "I've made my point."

"I mean the food."

"I know."

..

When he enters the room after getting them some scotch, which luckily is still in his father's living room, she's sitting on the rug, folded legs to the side, a small pile of records in front of her, studying the back of one of them.

He grins to himself as he hands her the glass and is grateful she doesn't notice. He drags a low stool nearer to where she is and sits himself in front of his father's record collection.

As they seemed to do with everything else they did together, they soon find an easy rhythm. He takes a record out of the low shelf in front of him, studies it for a second and hands it to her, telling her if it should go into the 'keep' or the 'leave' box. Their rhythm is easy, but not necessarily quick as they talk too much over the records. She also spends a lot of time trying to convince him the disks won't fit in the 'keep' box anymore and he'll need a new office back in New York and a new apartment because the records will take over his life. He rolls his eyes at her drama.

Granted, most of the records on the much smaller 'leave' pile are only there because he already owns a copy, one more argument she doesn't fail to make in her incessant nagging. At one point he blurts out an annoyed _"I'm not apologizing for who I am"_ , which makes Donna bend over with laughter until tears roll out of her eyes. Somehow he finds he's joined her in the outburst of honest happiness. The last thing he expected to do today.

One very large and heavy box later, they're done with the records.

Somewhere along the way they've taken their sweaters off and Donna put her hair up on a loose knot, bangs slightly pushed to the side.

Harvey takes the heavy box to the car while Donna carries his father's sax in a leather case hanging over her shoulder. The box goes into the trunk and she tries really hard not to laugh as Harvey places the instrument in the backseat of the car, securing it with a seatbelt. When he notices her expression he threatens to trade her for the instrument as his travel companion and put it on the front seat.

They go back inside and Harvey chooses a couple of posters and pictures off the walls, goes over some of his fathers documents and books. She watches as he takes a little box with some master tapes to the car as if they were made of crystal. The afternoon passes peacefully by as they organize and reminisce.

He wants some more scotch, starting to feel a little drowsy, but Donna decides it's not a good idea, since he still needs to drive them back. She ventures into his father's kitchen to make them some coffee while Harvey looks over his father's desk drawers.

"Found any treasures?" She hands him a mug of steamy liquid and he notes the absence of vanilla in his dad's pantry.

"Nope. Just boring papers."

"What about the music sheets you wanted?"

"That box." He points.

She leaves her mug on the table in front of him and comes back with the box. She places a chair beside Harvey's and they start to go through the papers while sipping at their coffees.

There's a lot of music in there. Most of them are printed out papers from music his father had learned over the years or just liked having around. The important ones, to Harvey, were in a separate folder. It was music his father had written himself. He leaves those for last.

It's not clear if it's a 'save the best for last' kind of thing or if he's merely not ready to go through his dad's life's work just yet, but eventually it's all they've got left to go through.

Those papers there were way messier than the other ones. For some, his father had scribbled on the margins, crossed out some notes and added new ones. Others were in pristine state.

"This is that one you like." Harvey shows Donna one of the perfect looking music sheets. It was one of his father's earlier works and one of her favorites.

She takes her time reading the notes on the paper, playing the music in her head. When she gazes back at Harvey she realizes he's been frowning over a sheet of paper for a long time.

"What is it?"

"I don't know this one." He shows Donna the paper.

Differently from all the other ones in there, this one is entirely handwritten. His father had drawn the musical notes with a blue pen, one by one. They take only a little over half of the sheet.

"He was composing this…" Harvey's voice is so hoarse she expected to see him crying when she gazed back at him, but his eyes are dry.

"Do you really not know this one? Maybe it's an old one he was working on."

"I don't know. It doesn't have a title." He looks like a lost little boy as he gazes sadly at the paper in her hands.

"I could… Maybe I could try and play it? If you want me to…? To see if you recognize it."

He looks at her astounded. Somehow it had slipped his mind over the years that she could do that. That among all of Donna Paulsen's wonderful talents, music is one of them.

He gapes at her and she mistakens his silence for confusion.

"Well, obviously not on the sax, but there's a keyboard there. I could… try."

He swallows the emotion thick on his throat and nods slowly. She smiles sweetly at him before she stands and walks to take a seat at the cushiony stool beneath the window. He follows hesitantly and stands by her, leaning his side against the window sill beside the keyboard.

"Now… this is no piano," Donna quirks an eyebrow in his direction. "And if you tell anyone I've said this I will sue you, but I'm not exactly great at this. It's been a long time. But uhn… let's just try this."

He's able to grin at her over the tightness in his chest before he watches her hands raise to the keyboard. She fixes the piece of paper on the support in front of her, turns the instrument on and presses what to him sounds like a few random keys.

She breathes deeply before hovering both hands over the instrument and then she starts to actually… play.

The song's a little melancholic - or maybe that's just his spirit - but in a sweet way, rather than sad. The tempo is quite slow.

He's not used to listening to one of his father's songs on a piano. It sounds more delicate somehow. He watches Donna's long pale fingers and maroon covered nails dance over the keys to the melody. He's sure it's the most graceful thing he's ever seen in his life and he wonders how much of _her_ has seeped into his father's composition.

It must have only lasted a little over a minute. And then it's suddenly over and ten times more quiet than it was before she started to play. He feels a streak of emotion travel inside each bone of his body and it takes everything in him to just… stand still.

Donna looks up at him. He looks like he might crumble before her eyes.

His right hand grasps the window sill as if it were the only thing holding him on this Earth. His knuckles are white. The other one hangs limply at the side of his body. Right beside her.

She didn't do it when she broke the news to him. But for some reason she does it now.

It's not so much of a decision as it is an impulse.

As if he was falling and she reached to catch him.

Her fingers graze the back of his hand slowly until they fold, reaching his palm. She holds his hand in hers and squeezes it lightly. She's looking up to him but he's looking to his right side, out the window and into the sunset.

A second later she thinks of letting go. She's sure her fingers didn't have time to act on the thought so he probably read her mind because his hand immediately tightens around hers, holding her almost too strongly.

She stands in front of him. Slowly, she closes the tiny gap between them, left arm folding around his neck. She leans her body lightly against his and jerks the slightest at the sudden sharp breath he draws in, chest expanding abruptly against her own. But just as swiftly she relaxes back into him. Her head lays on his left shoulder, staring at his neck.

He's a statue carved in stone. His head is still turned outside the window. His fingers still grasp the window sill with everything he has. She would think hugging him was the most horrendous thing she's ever done if not for the fact that he's still holding on the her hand so strongly her fingers hurt.

He then releases the air he's been keeping captive in his lungs and by doing so his whole body trembles.

Both his hands let go - of the window sill and of hers - and his arms desperately fold around her waist holding her close. She can feel the way his body trembles against her chest and stomach at each short breath he takes.

Her right hand, now free from his grasp, joins her other one over his shoulders.

He doesn't turn his face in her direction. If he did, he would stare right into her eyes. But he knows exactly how they look in that moment. Completely green in front of the warm light of the sunset and probably wet as her head rests on his shoulder.

But he doesn't turn.

He does close his eyes. And lowers his head until his face is pressed against her arm. He feels his tears wet the freckles on her shoulder, but strangely doesn't care. Instead he lets his lips linger against her skin until he places a kiss there, somewhere on her arm his closed eyes can't see, below her shoulder.

He feels the little tremble of her body battle his for just a second or two, and then she settles again.

When they part the room around them is suddenly dark. Donna turns on her back to switch the light on and Harvey quickly runs his fingers over his face to rid any traces of wetness.

"Of course it'll sound much better on the sax," She mentions quietly coming back to retrieve the music sheet and place it back in the folder with the others. "But it's really beautiful, right?"

She looks at him for the first time. His lips tug in the smallest of smiles, an honest one nonetheless, reddened and moistened eyes staring back at each other.

"It was really beautiful."

She grins back before snapping back into her efficient self.

"I'm guessing you want this entire folder?"

She doesn't really need an answer as she's already organizing the papers and pulling on the elastic to secure them inside.

"I think… that's it, huh?" She brings their attention to the now much emptier room. "Ready to hit the road?"

..

With one last look, Harvey locks the door to his father's house. Donna observes quietly as he places the key inside his pocket and marches to the car. She doesn't have to ask if they're stopping at Marcus's.

Harvey half expects to see a smug grin on her face for a second - there's no denying this had been her doing - but just as soon as it came, he shakes off that thought. That's not who Donna is.

 _I don't need your thanks, Harvey. I'm just really happy you're there._

She'd said that to him a month ago, about him going to the funeral and about staying to make peace with his mother. And though things didn't work out the way she wanted to, she's still here, glad to see him making an effort towards another member of his family, and humbly ignoring her role in all that.

"I'm gonna wait here, okay?" she says when he parks in front of the house.

He nods, thankful.

She makes a conscious effort _not_ to stare as Harvey talks to his brother by the front door, but there's no use because she has front row seats to the scene. They talk for a few minutes, longer than she'd expected, actually. Harvey hands him the key, and they share a brief hug before Harvey gets back to the car, presumably refusing his offer to go inside for coffee, as Donna assumed he would. Marcus waves goodbye to her in the distance and she smiles and waves back as Harvey gets behind the wheel.

"We should stop somewhere to eat before we hit the road."

"Yes, please! I am weak." She emphasizes with a flare of drama.

"Where's your tireless energy, Miss?" he mocks.

"Back in the trunk, along with your five hundred thousand records."

..

"So… You've been talking to your brother about your awesome assistant, huh?"

"What?"

"This morning. Marcus said it was nice to _finally_ meet me."

"You two have talked on the phone before." He tries to shrug it off.

" _And_ you've been telling him about your awesome assistant."

"I haven't, actually."

"Uh-hm, sure."

Humbleness is gone. Here's flippant, way too confident for his own good, Donna. How the hell did she pick up on that?

"No, _I haven't_ ," he emphasizes a little grumpy, "but... my father might have mentioned you once or twice…"

He sees her neck snap in his direction as she fixes him with widened eyes. She's so surprised by his words she has trouble keeping her cool and unabashed demeanor. He looks at her from the corner of his eyes and she frowns slightly. If he wasn't so lost himself on how to explain this, he would laugh at her face.

"What? My old man liked you. You know that."

"But did he talk about me?"

"Maybe…"

"Harvey!"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Don…" A lie. "He just mentioned your name sometimes…" Another lie. "Asked about you and stuff." Finally something is truth.

The truth of the matter is that his father was convinced Harvey was wasting time being an idiot when he should just marry the woman already and he was _not_ subtle about it.

She hums and accepts his vague answer, looking out the window at the passing trees in the darkness at the side of the road.

"Well, I liked him too."

"I know." Harvey's lips pull at the corners, gazing at her with a tenderness in his eyes.

Something warm passes in the quiet air between them, as they take a moment to just breathe in the gale of feelings and memories.

"What do you feel like eating?" Harvey asks eventually.

"I don't feel particularly picky."

She shrugs and almost immediately Harvey takes a turn and stops at a place just outside of Boston.

"Pizza it is."

..

To her defense, she did talk to him for most of the drive, but after the day they've had and after managing to find a smooth jazz station on the radio Donna fell asleep for the last hour or so of their way home. He drove in the darkness, listening to quiet music, every once in a while chancing a gaze at Donna comfortably sleeping in the seat beside him, cuddling his sweater which covered her like a blanket.

When he parks in front of her building it's past 11 pm and she's still sound asleep. He places a hand on her jean covered knee to wake her up and grins as he watches her eyes flutter open beneath copper bangs.

"We're here?" She straightens up, a little disoriented.

"Yeah. Delivered to your doorstep, safe and and sound." He smiles and opens his own door so she waits until he comes around the car to open the door for her.

He lets her out and they stand by the still open door. Harvey's holding on to it and his arm blocks her way.

"I… Thank you, Donna." There's such a firm sincerity in his tone and his eyes lock her with such a strong intent, it disconcerts her. Makes her uncharacteristically shy and makes it impossible for her to act like this was just a casual _'bye, see you Monday'_.

"It was nothing, Harvey."

"You know it wasn't."

There's something in the air between them as they stand, looking into each other's eyes.

She wants to comfort him.

He wants her comfort.

Somehow they miss the bridge that's able to connect their wants into a reality.

So she just smiles sweetly, hoping he knows how much she wishes she could make him feel better.

And he smiles back, hoping she knows she already did.

..

* * *

 **AN:** I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into what happened all those years ago between these two idiots in love who are always there for each other.

If we're being honest, I might have one or two more chapters of this still in me (if you're interested, please let me know), BUT I have no intention of writing it yet and this really is intended to be taken as a oneshot.

Thank you to AlternateShadesofBlue for being the best beta and supporter a girl could dream of.

And thank you for the lovely reviews!


	2. The god-awful dinner party

**AN:** just to clarify, even though this is a second chapter, it works as a oneshot on its own (the same goes for chapter 1). The idea with this fic is going into moments involving their families as a backdrop for their relationship throughout the years. The first chapter revolved around Harvey's dad, and here we have Donna's mom.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – The god-awful dinner party  
** Donna needs Harvey's help hosting a dinner party for her mother. Humor/Romance.

..

It's 08:15. He's late and she's not surprised, but any minute now…

She pulls her box of tissues closer. Takes one out, scrunches it in her hand. Three, two, one…

Footsteps round the corner and she can see him coming by. From the corner of her eyes she spots a light grey suit, blue tie and white shirt. He's in a good mood, clear headed, slept enough... Thank god.

"Morning!" he says distractedly as he passes by her desk, but double takes at the sound of a sniff and halts his steps to notice her reddened eyes and wet lashes, the faintest smudge of mascara, the tinge of red in her nose... "Donna! What- are you okay?"

Harvey enters her cubicle and sits on her desk, leaning close to her. He grabs a tissue from the box and extends it to her. "What happened?"

Donna accepts the tissue and lightly dabs under her eye, but the tears seem to keep rolling down. "No, it's nothing, Harvey. I'm fine."

"You're not fine! What happened?" The concern is clear in his tone.

"It's just…" she sniffs again. "Okay, you're gonna think it's silly, but keep in mind that my dad is devastated! My mom started dating this guy. He's a really rich, really old guy from _Oklahoma_!" she says as if the State of Oklahoma had personally offended her.

"Okay…?" Harvey scrunches his brows, more confused than ever.

"Not okay!" she admonishes him. "She called to tell me and she started telling me about their sex life, Harvey! And, to make everything a thousand times worse, she's coming to visit and she wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend. She wants me to have them over for dinner! Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? _Me_ introducing a guy to my mom?"

"So… you're upset your mom is dating because… you're not?"

To his credit, he probably really is trying to be understanding, way more than he usually is, she notices in the back of her mind.

"Of course not!" She shoots him an offended look. "But what am I supposed to do with that guy in my house? I love my mom, but I barely know what to talk to her about and now this senior citizen… I can barely cook!" Her voice sounds a little desperate.

"Hm, okay, calm down." Harvey hesitantly tries to appease her. "I can… What can I do to help?"

He is just _so easy_ at times…

"Oh…" she seems to be taking a second to think about his offer. "I don't know… I mean, I guess it would be really great to have a buffer there, you know? Someone to distract from the awkwardness of the situation and just be charming and make small talk…"

"Donna...!" An audible groan escapes his lips, but she's looking at him from below her wet eyelashes and of course this battle was won before it even began. "Okay... I'll do it."

"Really?" Donna says excitedly. "She's coming this Saturday and you don't have anything on your schedule. I'll owe you big time!"

"Yeah, okay, I can do it- wait," he stops mid sentence, his low and consoling tone becoming louder as he scrunches his whole face. "You already checked my schedule?"

"Yep!" Donna's tone is chirpy and she smiles sweetly. Too sweetly.

"Oh my god!" He jumps off of her desk and gapes at her, watching her sway slowly to face him. Donna just relaxes back into her chair and keeps smiling as he wonders where the hell her tears disappeared to. "You… YOU SET ME UP!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Donna states, a look of casual innocence as she raises her eyebrows.

"You pulled the fake crying shit on me! Again!"

That's when she smirks.

"I plead the fifth."

"Donna!" He groans in a mix of utter annoyance and hopeless pleading, but she cuts him off before he can make his case.

"So we're set. Saturday night at my place. Your schedule is clear and I'll be waiting for you at 6:30, because _I need_ you there before my mom shows up."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." She raises her eyebrows and conjures a cup of coffee out of nowhere to hand him as a peace offering, which he accepts, but not without making a face.

Harvey takes a deep breath in defeat and a sip of his coffee. "You could bring down entire nations, you know that?"

"Nobody told you to hire an actress." She shrugs.

"YOU told me to hire an actress!"

"Okay, bye now. Go do some work before things end up pilling up for Saturday." She waves him out of her cubicle.

"Oh, don't tempt me!" Harvey replies from behind his shoulder, but he's already entering his office.

..

She can cook. She's been feeding herself for years and she's still alive, well and with a smoking hot body, thank you very much. But she usually just scrambles something really quick, it's not like she has the time or the desire to spend her life behind a stove. And she practically lives at the office. And she's been ordering out a lot… Okay, maybe cooking isn't her number one skill.

Donna has a cookbook and an organized assortment of ingredients over her kitchen counter and a couple of pots heating at the stove when she hears a knock on the door and freezes. It's too soon. Dinner's not ready, she's not ready, Harvey's not there yet… shit.

She's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and her hair is up and probably looking like a mess her mother will no doubt point out in front of Oklahoma Bob. She should've told Harvey to come earlier. She-

" _Hey, it's too late to play hard to get. Can you open the door?"_

She sighs in relief when she hears Harvey's voice and rushes to the door.

"You're early."

"Are you seriously complaining?"

"I am in no way complaining. I just had three successive heart attacks thinking it was my mom." She moves out of the way to let him in and he hands her a bottle of wine. "You didn't have to."

"Why? Are you planning on going through tonight sober?"

"Oh, no. Definitely not. It's just I'm stocked up on wine already." She raises both her eyebrows for a dramatic flare.

Harvey chuckles and shrugs off his jacket as he follows her into the kitchen.

Donna catches herself staring at him as he stops to place his folded jacket on the back of an armchair. For a moment, she doesn't know what to say, nor why she feels so nervous. How it's even possible to feel awkward around Harvey when they put in fifteen hour days twelve feet from each other is a mystery to her. But only for a second, and then it hits her.

It's only the second time he's ever set foot in her apartment. The first since… the other time.

She had been so busy inside her head, freaking out about having dinner with her mom and her boyfriend, she somehow forgot to consider the implications of having Harvey in her apartment.

Add to that how casual they both look. Him, with his black button up and dark jeans, though his hair is as gelled up as always, and looking so much taller than her, with her fitted t-shirt, messy hair and no shoes. That's new for them. They've only ever seen each other in two styles of _outfits_ before, those being: work attire and naked. She probably can't even count her lilac negligee, considering Harvey only saw her in that for about three minutes before he ripped it off her body... But this line of thought isn't helping.

She takes a deep breath and pours him a glass of wine so he can join her half way through the bottle.

"So, what are we eating?" he inquires after a gulp of his wine, looking over her cookbook.

"Shrimp cocktail, this fish stuffed with herbs and some veggies." She points at the pictures on the book as she speaks, standing close beside him.

"Looks good." He nods at the pictures, but there's just something too humorous about his face.

She places a hand on her hip and calls him out. "What is it?"

Harvey smirks at her from behind the rim of his glass, before asking in a teasing tone. "You can cook, right?"

"Of course I can cook!"

He raises an eyebrow, challenging her. "Just checking."

"You didn't come early just to mock my cooking, did you?"

"To make sure I don't get poisoned, you mean?"

She tilts her head to the side and gives him a 'cut the bullshit' look to inform him he's being ridiculous.

"To be honest, I bet myself you'd order out and I'm just here to make sure it won't be from that shitty Thai place you ordered from last week."

"You talk a big talk for someone whose kitchen skills begin and end with scrambled eggs."

"I know how to make coffee."

"That's not cooking."

"You said 'kitchen skills', not cooking," he replies, looking too smug for someone who's just admitted can't cook shit.

She rolls her eyes at his incorrigible ways. "Okay, counselor. Less talking, more chopping before my mom arrives."

"You're gonna make me work?" He gapes at her, but she's pretty sure he doesn't mean it.

"Oh, come on! You had to know this would happen when you decided to show up early."

"My schedule was just _too_ clear." He shrugs. "You really made sure I had nothing else to do but come here tonight, didn't you?"

Donna chuckles because it's true.

"Okay, I'm gonna finish dealing with the fish. Can you chop these tomatoes? Here."

She throws him a tomato and he catches it in the air, giving it a squeeze and then they start working together, side by side on the counter. He's chopping while she makes an incision on the fish and stuffs it with herbs, but Donna's focus is clearly more on what Harvey's doing rather than on her own task, making sure he doesn't slaughter their future meal.

"You think I'm gonna chop off my finger or something?" Harvey side glances her, amused.

"If I have to take you to the emergency room I can easily cancel dinner."

"What's the big deal anyway? Why are you so worked up about this?"

Donna sighs. "I- I don't know, I'm just a little nervous. I haven't seen my mom in so long because of work... and she's obviously gonna say something about that, by the way." She raises an eyebrow in Harvey's direction.

"About what?"

"About working such long hours. That's apparently not the right way to live my life." She rolls her eyes.

"I thought you got along with your mom."

"I do, I really do. But we're just… different people. And I love her, but she's really not the most understanding person when things don't meet her expectations. Hence the divorce."

"And you are one of the things that didn't meet her expectations?"

She can sense the slight hint of anger in his tone and in the way his jaw clenches.

"Some aspects of me, yes. And she's always been a little bit resentful that I didn't cut ties with my dad when she did. She thinks I picked his side in the divorce and I didn't."

Harvey glances at her, dipping his chin down and twisting his mouth to the side, an expression she can read way too easily.

"I didn't! I just don't blame him for everything that happened," she defends.

He doesn't say a thing. Just reaches for the bottle of wine and refills their glasses.

He knows her story. She had told him years ago, even before he told her about his. How her father used to be a big name in development and they lived in a huge house in Connecticut. How she used to take piano lessons and theater lessons and she was going to be an actress. Until her dad made a bad deal. He lost all their family money and their house, and they moved to a small apartment in New York. Donna's always had the feeling that Harvey resented her father for that at least a little bit, just like her mother did.

"You and my mom are going to get along just fine," she frowns.

Harvey smirks, not putting any effort into trying to convince her he has fond feelings towards her dad. "I don't know, Don. She might wanna come after me for making you work so late."

"Can't blame her," Donna smirks back.

They're interrupted by the phone ringing somewhere further down the corridor.

"Can you just tie the fish closed and dump it in that pan, please?" She points at some kind of stew boiling in the stove. "I'll finish the vegetables later, this needs to cook now. The string's here." She opens a drawer for him and rushes to answer the phone.

When she comes back into the kitchen she's changed for dinner and is now wearing a casual dress, put some shoes on and let her hair down. Harvey's leaning on the counter, drinking his wine and going through his phone.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Fish is cooking. Work is weirdly slow." He shoves his phone back into his pocket.

"Hm, that's weird." She smiles coyly, not even trying to hide the fact that she's responsible for said slowness.

"What you're capable of scares me sometimes, you know?"

There's not much else to do and Donna finishes cooking by herself. After a few minutes, all that's left to do is check on the fish.

"Harvey!" She calls in a weirdly high pitch. "Can you come here for a second?"

Harvey had been sitting in the living room and when he gets back into the kitchen she's statue like, staring at the pan in front of her with wide eyes, the arm holding the lid frozen mid-air.

"What happened?" He rushes over, but when he stands behind her, looking over her shoulder at the pan, what happened becomes abundantly clear.

"Why is my fish blue?" She's speaking in a paused manner that's positively _scary_.

"Oh, shit!" Harvey runs his fingers through his hair. "It must've been the string…"

"You tied the fish with a blue string?!" She turns around to face him, almost bumping her chest against his because he had been standing so close. She's fuming.

Harvey takes a safety step back. "You told me to! It was in the drawer!"

"You know what else was in the freaking drawer, Harvey? A regular, normal, WHITE, cooking string!" She lunges to open the same drawer again and points at the little roll just sitting there.

Harvey's face scrunches up in what she thinks is guilt, but turns out it was just him trying to contain himself because, surely enough, he's bursting out in laughter only a second later.

And he just… wouldn't. stop. laughing.

"What the hell, Harvey?!" Donna manages to say, involuntarily being carried away by him, which makes it very hard to be mad.

Harvey's bending over, she's drying tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. That's when the doorbell rings.

"Shit!" Donna's laughter immediately ceases and she collects herself, straightening her posture as if she was about to come up on stage and put on a show. "Okay, go to the living room." She orders Harvey, before she moves to open the door.

Standing in front of the closed door, she takes a deep breath and plasters a smile on her face before turning the lock.

"Mom!"

"Darling! It's so good to see you." The woman on the other side of the door smiles brightly and hugs her before introducing the man by her side. "Here, I'd like you to meet Bob."

Bob is shorter than Donna - and her mother, for that matter -, he sports silver-grey hair combed back to perfection and a thick white beard. He wears a grey blazer over his white shirt, jeans and… _are those cowboy boots?_

"I've heard so much about you, Bob." Donna shakes the man hands, thinking that, frankly, she would like to have heard a bit less.

"So have I," comes Bob's hoarse voice. "The only thing your mother didn't tell me is that you two look like sisters!"

"Oh, Bob!" Her mom gives the man a little slap on the shoulder and giggles.

It's official. Her mother is absolutely infatuated.

"Come in, you too." Donna guides them past the threshold and down the corridor to the living room where her mother abruptly halts at the sight of Harvey standing there, waiting for the guests.

"Mom, this is Harvey. Harvey, this is my mom, Tania."

Tania glances back at her daughter a little wide-eyed, a strange contentment in her features Donna can't quite place.

"Harvey! It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Harvey beams at her and Donna can see he's putting all his charms to their advantage as he greets her mother. Bless his soul.

Tania doesn't only shake Harvey's hand. She gives him a brief hug just like she did with her daughter, before introducing her boyfriend and immediately striking small talk about how he looks even more handsome than she imagined and how she's glad she finally gets to thank him in person for letting her stay in his condo last year. She's being so agreeable, so pleasant and so nice, Donna just doesn't know what to think.

Since she divorced her father, Donna's mother had been complaining about her lifestyle more and more. And that, of course, included Harvey. Tania seemed to like him in the beginning of their professional relationship, but as the years had gone by, she had started to complain about Harvey everytime she got a chance. It was clear she felt like the man was monopolizing and holding down her daughter's life, like he was taking advantage of her in some way. And that only caused Donna to share less of her life with her mother. But apparently she started liking the man again all of the sudden?

Even Bob was surprisingly pleasant, with his loud laughter and strong accent, he struck a business conversation with Harvey before Donna had even poured them some wine.

Her mom caught her up on life in the South over a glass of wine and one or two jabs about her ex-husband, to which Donna tried _really hard_ not to roll her eyes until she decided she should probably start the dinner part of the evening and move things along.

This was going weirdly well. What was she even freaking out about?

"Do you need help?" Harvey asks with his ass already halfway off the couch and she knows what he's actually asking is _for the love of god, will you please let me go with you?_

"I do, thank you." She decides to give him this one on the account of doing her the huge favor of coming tonight.

"Really? That bad?" she murmurs when they're alone in the kitchen.

Harvey leans over her shorter form, whispering as low as he can. "The guy just won't stop talking! I think he's trying to poach me to the cattle business and, believe me, I would've bought an entire herd already if it would shut him up."

Donna chuckles. "Sorry, my mom's being weirdly nice. It distracted me from rushing dinner."

"By the way, your mom likes me, huh?" He raises his eyebrows looking way too full of himself for her liking.

She rolls her eyes. "Like I said, she's acting weird. Let's move this along."

They both serve the shrimp cocktail in the living room and open another bottle of wine. The food is edible, at most. She has to admit to herself it's not her best work. But only to herself.

They're all chatting animatedly when her mother's next comment crashes down between them.

"I have to say," Tania speaks with a glint in her eyes and a teasing smile. "I'm so happy the two of you have finally decided to commit!"

Donna feels something inside her drop to her feet while her eyes catch Harvey's. She finds her voice at the back of her throat to stutter a low questioning. " _W-what?_ "

"That situation between you two was so silly!" Tania distractedly sips her wine, not noticing the tension on her daughter's face. "You know you weren't convincing me with that line about Harvey being _just your boss_ , right? I mean-"

"Mom!" Donna cuts her off in a high cry, briefly glancing at Harvey's dumbfounded expression, all wide-eyed and trying to swallow his mouthful of shrimp. "Harvey _is just my boss,"_ she says between gritted teeth.

"Oh, sweetheart..." her mom chuckles light heartedly for a second until she has the sense of feeling the room and, between Donna's livid expression and Harvey choking on his food, she gathers her daughter really is serious. One would think the woman would be embarrassed after such a faux pas, but not Tania. She's infuriated. "Oh no! Not this bullshit again!" she exclaims in unguarded annoyance.

Donna blinks several times as she stares at her mother unbelievingly. "You… Did you actually think we were… together? This whole time?"

"Of course I did, Donna! I come to dinner at my daughter's house to introduce her to the man of my life and she has a guy over, I'm surely going to assume they're in a relationship!"

She finally snaps out of the shock, making room for anger and exasperation. "Well, maybe you shouldn't be so quick to assume things!"

"Oh, that certainly is a shame," comes Bob's deep voice from his corner of the couch, attracting everyone's attention and suddenly stopping the argument that was about the erupt between mother and daughter. "You two make such a handsome duo. Imagine the offspring you two could provide! But I guess not... I just can't understand why. I think youth these days are just too complicated!"

"Oh, what can I say, Bob?" Donna mock-sighs. "I can be picky. I choose my men the way you choose your cattle - strong, with great hair... and delicious!"

Harvey immediately spurts out such an uncontrollable laughing fit, the shrimp he's been keeping his mouth busy with to avoid talking flies across the room and lands silently in the back of Tania's hair, who's looking at Donna with her jaw dropped and a fire of outrage in her eyes at her daughter's indiscretion.

To make matters worse, the shrimp just got stuck in there like a tick. Harvey has tears in his eyes and he feels like he's going to choke between his desperate, and futile, attempt to stop laughing and the terror about the very likely odds that Tania would notice the shellfish adonning her well groomed hairdo at any second.

He's trying to attract her attention, but Donna's very stubbornly avoiding his eyes while simultaneously shooting daggers at her mother.

"This shrimp is _so great_ , Donna!" Harvey says loudly, still a little choked up and using the fakest cheerful tone anyone in the room has ever heard, specially because it would be safe to say the only thing the four people there probably could agree on at that moment is that the shrimp's _not_ great.

"Hm, thanks," Donna replies, unfazed by the fake compliment, but that accomplishes Harvey's goal - she's looking at him.

" _Shrimp. Hair."_ He mouths in her direction while her mom starts talking to Bob.

Donna scrunches her nose in confusion. _"What?"_

" _There's a shrimp… in your mother's hair."_

He's pretty sure at this point what they're doing is more mind reading than reading lips, but his emphatic glance towards her mother does the trick.

Donna follows his glance and immediately squeals when she sees the problem, the sound attracting her mother's attention back to her. She's biting her lips so hard to stop from bursting out in laughter that her face is getting red.

"What is it?" her mother inquiries sternly.

"I'm going to serve dinner!" Donna replies all too innocently, recovering quickly. She stands beside her mother and mentions sweetly "I'm really glad you're here, Mom."

And just when Harvey's furrowing his brows in confusion at her weirdly timed kindness, he spots her tenderly stroking her mother's hair before she retreats to the kitchen, leaving Tania a little more soft and a little less shrimpy. The woman is a goddamn genius.

Harvey beams at her from his place and she raises the flying shrimp in victory behind Tania's back.

..

"Any particular reason why this fish's blue, sweetheart?" Tania asks ironically when Donna places the dish at the center of the dinner table.

"If I told you it's the Pacific trout, would you believe me? It's very rare, _very expensive_."

"No, I would not."

Donna shrugs, taking a seat beside her mother. "Then you can either blame Harvey or just trust it tastes good and eat it."

"So Harvey's responsible for the food you serve but, still, you're not in a relationship."

"Oh my god…" Donna mutters tiredly, dropping her head in defeat.

They soon confirm that the fish is, in fact, surprisingly good.

Between the good-looking, but tasteless shrimp and the scary-looking, but tasty fish, Donna desperately needs desert to go well. But that's okay, because she's cooked those pears before and they're delicious, juicy and warm, with a tinge of wine and it goes perfectly with the… _shit_. She forgot she was supposed to serve the desert with whipped cream.

She absolutely cannot and will not serve whipped cream to Harvey. There's no way. She's having a mini freak out in the kitchen, not knowing what to do about the damn desert. There's ice cream in the fridge, but it's Chunky Monkey, she can't serve that…

Accepting defeat, she serves her guests just the pears immersed in the sweet sauce they're cooked in and hopes it's good enough. But of course fate - and her mother - wouldn't let her get away so easily.

"I don't care much for fruit," Bob mentions licking his spoon, "but this is one damn good pear."

"Thanks, Bob."

"It's good, but you should serve it with some vanilla ice cream next time, honey," her mother tells her, "or better yet, whipped cream."

Donna's eyes snap in Harvey's direction, finding him staring back at her. She doesn't mean to, but it's as if their sights magnetically attract each other at the mention of the word. It's a secret joke, a secret ritual and a very, very dangerous subject that had been forbidden between them a long time ago and never mentioned again.

"You wouldn't happen to have some whipped cream in your fridge, would you?" Tania asks, not noticing the tension going around the dinner table. "It would go great."

"No, Mom. I'm all out of whipped cream," Donna says, eyes still locked on Harvey's, and she can't help the way the corners of her mouth curl up the slightest and, without intending to, she's smirking at him. Harvey shakes his head slowly as he bites the corner of his lower lip and she's sure there's also a restrained smirk in there. Feeling something way too hot spread from her belly up to her neck and down between her legs, she avoids his gaze then, turning her head down in a light chuckle, an uncharacteristic shyness to her.

..

Bob isn't that bad after all. A bit of a loser, but also kind of sweet and her mother seems happy with him so that's what matters. After dinner, they move the conversation back to the couch, but don't extend their visit for much longer, and soon her mother's thanking her for the night and telling Bob it's time for them to go.

"Can we give you a ride in our cab, Harvey?" Bob offers as the group moves to the door.

"Hm… no, that's not necessary. Thank you," Harvey replies awkwardly and Tania eyes him suspiciously.

"Are you coming down with us, at least?" She motions to the stairs.

Harvey declines, trying to shrug and appear casual. "I'll stay and help Donna clean up."

Donna shoots him a look, eyebrows almost disappearing under her bangs in mock surprise, when in reality she's about to laugh at his excuse to avoid being alone with the couple.

"Aren't you a gentleman!" Tania comments in unmistakable sharp irony and Donna can swear Harvey almost blushes, but she doesn't push any further and turns to her daughter instead. "Well, then… it was really nice to see you, honey. You gotta remember you have a mother every once in a while."

"Like I could forget! I miss you, Mom." Donna smiles and hugs her mother. They embrace tenderly for a moment before the four of them share their goodbyes and Donna waits until her mother reaches the staircase to shut the apartment door.

She leans tiredly against the door, bowing her head back, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath as Harvey watches her unwind.

"I can't tell if me being here made more damage or helped." He smirks at her when she opens her eyes.

"Yeah, me neither…"

"That was one god-awful dinner party." He chuckles, making Donna laugh.

"Hey, what's with the shrimp in my mother's hair?!" she shoots in his direction, suddenly remembering she still needs further explanation on whatever the hell happened there, but Harvey starts laughing again and she can't help but follow along. "Did you really… just… _spit_ that piece of shrimp on her?" she asks, trying to talk in the midst of laughter.

"It was your fault!" Harvey defends himself. "You and your delicious cattle-men!"

Donna's laughing so much her ribs hurt.

"Why did it get stuck in there though?" he asks. "I don't understand!"

"Hairspray!"

When their laughter slowly subsides, they find themselves smiling at each other in silence. Just standing by the door, slightly high on wine and laughter and how inebriating the other's company is.

"Well, even if it backfired a bit, I'm glad you were here tonight. Thank you."

Harvey just shrugs, placing both hands in his pockets. "No problem."

"Okay, I'll set you free now," she mentions lightly, reaching to open the door again, but he stops her.

"I said I'd help you clean up."

She rolls her eyes, good-humored. "I know for a fact you only said that to escape Bob."

"And your mother, yes." He nods and smiles in confirmation. "But I'm a man of my word."

"You don't have to…"

"Will you just let me have some more wine and dry some dishes?"

He _wants to_ stay, she realizes. So she chuckles and they go back to the kitchen to clean up.

It's in that moment, when she's handing him a plate and watching him place his half-empty glass of wine on the counter to dry it with a dishcloth, that it hits her for the first time. Something pulls inside her chest and for a second it feels warm and sweet, until it gets so hot she feels it's burning her from inside. The realization of how good, and comfortable, and happy and… _right_ this feels.

Being there with Harvey, at the end of the night, having wine and cleaning up after dinner, talking and laughing together... It all feels so familiar, like that's the way life's supposed to be.

But it's everything they're not. All they don't have and could never have. At that moment, she doesn't quite understand why.

"What?"

Harvey's low tone pulls her out of her reverie and she realizes she had drifted away to that little place she keeps locked inside and never allows herself in. She takes a sip of her wine to try and swallow down the sudden lump in her throat.

"Never thought I'd see you doing dishes." She smirks.

"Technically you're the one doing them."

"Wanna trade places?"

"No way."

"Next time then," she jokes, hoping he won't notice the bittersweetness of her tone, because there may very well never be a next time.

"Next time." Harvey grins and pours her some more wine, so she just smiles, breathes in, puts it out of her mind and never mentions it again - exactly like she's used to.

..

* * *

 **AN:** I hope this makes justice to the iconic god-awful dinner party and that you had some fun reading it! (It was so much fun for me to write it!) I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Shout out to Bridget Jones' Diary for the idea of the blue-string food.  
Much love to Blue for betaing and general wonderfulness.


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